1994 – Present
We are made of water, bones and flesh. We will all die. What will remain is our ‘talisman’ ‘tılsım’, meaning the magic and energy we will leave behind and take with us.
Discovering our ‘talisman’ will happen if we follow our inner voice. It will take time. Every ‘talisman’ have its own journey to come out, nothing comparable.
‘Let me try. No! Let me be.’
The last part of I, Anatolia is reserved for the actress. In this case, I, Zeynep Feride Morçay is the actress playing the actress part as myself to emphasize that I am a character and I am beyond my character. In my understanding, my character is constructed through my DNA, upbringing, experiences and consumptions. I fell in love with acting, as drama made me comprehend the patterns of human beings, and why we are who we are. It made me ask the question ‘what is beyond character’, ‘beyond birth’? Can I call it the soul even it may not be academically correct?
Güngör Dilmen wrote the final words of I, Anatolia for the actress to say ‘…like a phoenix that’s born from its own ashes‘ (Dilmen and Talman, 1997). ‘The ashes’ Güngör refers to is perhaps beyond character or within character. Character is a problematic word, yet it helps us to understand ‘patterns’ (Jung, 1990).
My main attempt of this play was to show that ‘the essence’ remains the same; what changes is the character, the period, experiences. The ashes have been born in Kibele, Puduhepa. Lamassi, Anna Komnena, Nigâr, Nasrettin Hodja’s wife, Halide Edip and Feride Morçay. The same ashes, each time a different journey of the soul. The ashes are still on earth, as the earth, our world calls for them.
The only block for myself can be me. My patterns need to be free, tightened so that I can rebuild them with consciousness.